


Episode 41: The Ka'kex

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [41]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Chan chan chan chan!" ~HooriIt's finally Ka'kex! No pressure. Just going to watch a rite of passage two rows behind the tribe Alor.
Series: Clan Meso'a [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 41: The Ka'kex

Dawn broke over the valley like a plume of fireworks raining down across the horizon. Multicolor blankets hung from every balcony, strings of beads and cut paper flowers draped across roadways and alleys, and red-and-orange petals covered the ground. Steam rose from the street vents, creating misty walls from fragrant foods and oils that made anyone who walked through them smell delightful. Chochoma gathered around the vents, getting bits of food and bone handed up to them from the busy cooks below, and children raced after them, putting strings of berries around their necks and drawing designs on their fur with natural paints. A til’nook, eyeing a tray of fresh pastries, made to leap up and snatch them only for an older woman to hoist it up and lift it the rest of the way. It snorted happily, grabbing the pastries and shoveling them on its belly like a table; she gave it a big kiss on its scaly cheek and carried it down the street towards the plaza. Following behind the throngs of people heading down into the plains proper, men and women in white-and-orange robes bearing drums and wind instruments marched in rows of three. At the front, a ruddy-tan Zabark (with one of his six horns broken) lead them beneath the festival hangings with what looked like a large, spiral shell held out in front of him. Periodically, he would shout something, blow on the shell, and his followers would respond with their own shouts and notes on their instruments.  
Warriors in full kit descended on the plaza and grassy parks with arms full of trinkets and foods to share, several sporting colorful, hand embroidered designs on their jumpsuits. A pair of Ver’gebuir let their charges free from a day of training to roam around the villages before the trials began down in the plains proper. Many children, trainees or otherwise, linked up with one another and began exchanging carved totems or treasures they picked up during their travels, the older children having the most to trade. Several men and women, most carrying infants in canvas-and-bone carriers, brought out handmade blankets from their indoor looms to sell down at the market. Among them were Maak’ux, some with large families and others on their own, who also had wares to sell to their tribe brethren. One family, two adults and six children, carried a carved surfboard down the center of the road and happily chatted with the amazed onlookers. The family’s til’nook, a stout creature with black scales and fluorescent orange stripes, sat atop the surfboard and kept its head lifted importantly...until it spied the til’nook covered in pastries and darted after it.  
From the East, a small band of warriors with large packs laden with hand made goods appeared from the edge of the jungle and jogged to catch up with their plains counterparts. At their heels were two til’nook, one a mossy green with a brown belly and the other dark brown with a black belly, and a Xalaraac with a red-and-white cord tied just above its tail feathers. The group was led by two men carrying neatly packaged pottery and leaf wreaths covering the majority of their forearms. Behind them a group of children followed with crates of food on hover-sleds hooked to harnesses on their backs. From the West, a small group of women on hoverboards with hover-sleds disembarked along the south western end of the festival grounds. All but one had their hair in a tight bun decorated with seashells. They had no animals with them save the dead Dunuul trailing behind them in the sleds, and the wares they unpacked were stone trinkets and carved sections of driftwood.  
The last group to follow looked as though they’d just stepped off of Hoth. Men, women, and children descended from the mountain with crates of food and bundles of goods to sell. Their armor was far more fur then metal, but it seemed they were traveling light. Many had helmets, but a few wore fur caps or headscarves. A few elderly women, taking off their heavy blankets, sat on sleds pulled by Kath Hounds with their children and grandchildren flanking them to keep the beasts from being spooked by darting Chochoma. Each Kath had their leather harnesses decorated with golden bells and a red-and-white ribbon tied around their lower left horns. When they arrived at the pavilions, they unloaded barrels of ka’hast, bottles of dried herbs, and ice for their frozen treat stand.  
The field between the foothills and the plains’ Toch’akjah was littered with tents, marquis, and small pavilions, their canvas tops changing the emerald fields into a galaxy of color. Areas with high Chochoma-den concentrations were avoided, leaving large pockets of empty grass for children and animals to play together while the adults got down to trading. Some wanted credits for decorative knives or hand-woven baskets, some exchanged home-made alcohol, and others wanted raw materials (like honey or stones from the mountains) in exchange for recipes or embroidered patches for their retirement Pi’il. Children who weren’t busy playing or eating at various vendors traded small Chochoma figurines of varying colors with anyone who was willing to. Most adults gave their figurines away, but the children enjoyed haggling with one another. One teen, a year out from his Kexultz, wanted a whole bag (about a fist full) of candied nuts for his jade Chochoma. An older boy asked for a bottle of malt for his Silver Chochoma despite knowing full and well that the gaggle of six year olds would never be able to manage that. When they ran off to bug their parents, he told his snickering friend that he was really saving it for a special someone he’d met while staying with the seaside tribe who’d promised to visit during the Ka’kex. His face when the children returned minutes later with the malt, courtesy of their cackling Ver’gebuir, was priceless. 

The sky was bright when Cara took the stairs two at a time down to the refresher. Anticipation made her stomach do a backflip, but she didn’t attempt to contain her excitement. The Ka’kex: a festival dedicated to the warriors, the pride of clan life, and the thing she’d been waiting weeks to experience was finally here. She’d get to see other Chibala, try more wonderful food, and finally have her questions answered about the life of the Meso’a warrior. Jecho had already provided her with a holomap to keep on her at all times, and she’d been studying it once Aviila went to sleep. Her plan relied on a few locations to be unblocked by festival traffic, so she’d need to stay vigilant, but if all went well… She shivered, rubbing a moisturizer into her parched hair carefully. Tavut’s braids looked like they could withstand anything, but she wanted to put her best foot forward, especially if she was meeting the head Chibala, Ba’atuk’s brother.  
“Cara?” called Jecho from outside the door, “I have a few things for you when you’re ready.”  
“One moment,” she called back, sliding into her dress and tying her headband tight.  
“P’tal Ka’ra!” Av’hok pushed past Jecho and pounded pounded on the door. (Come, Lava!)  
“Chan chan chan!” shrieked Hoori, doing a figure-eight around the patio chairs. (Festival festival festival!)  
Cara heard that hissing tut from Dendona and the pounding on the door stopped. Hoori was still chanting “Chan!”, but Cara figured there would be no curbing their enthusiasm. Not today.  
“Now, I haven’t explained these yet,” said Jecho, pulling out a felt pouch, “But this is the traditional festival mask for Chibala.”  
She pulled out what looked like an animal’s bottom jaw with cords to tie around the wearer’s head. Cara reeled back from it.  
“What is that!? Was it...attached to something?”  
“No no no,” Jecho chuckled, handing to to her, “It’s a wooden replica of a Jiiya’s jaw. When the Meso’a used to hunt the Jiiya, they would take their tusks as trophies. If pregnant Jiiya was slaughtered on accident, since the ancestors had a hard time telling a pregnant one from a well fed one, the Chibala would take the remains of the unborn kits and turn them into totems or offerings to Rahast. But,” she added when Cara made a face, “we don’t do that anymore. Haven’t for centuries, but the wearing of the mask is still tradition so,” she took Cara’s hands and pushed the mask towards her face, “give it a try.”  
Cara looked from her to mask as if Jecho was crazy. When the older woman sighed, Cara relented.  
“Fine, I’ll wear it, but I feel really-”  
“Gross?”  
“Yeah.”  
Jecho patted her shoulder, “You’ll get used to it. Bones are an integral part of Meso’a culture, whether they be the remains of warriors or animals.”  
“I guess so,” Cara shrugged, struggling with the ties.  
The wood was cold against her face and made her jaw tingle. In the mirror, she adjusted it and tried not to jump back in fright at the jagged teeth and small tusks now jutting from her face. The jaw itself was bulky and made her look like she had an over exaggerated underbite. But this is their custom, she told herself as she moved her jaw around until it became comfortable. Back at the table, Jecho was lining up a set of figurines.  
“Meso’a society is organized into what we call the ‘Ha’vin’ka’, or the Five Lights,” she said, gesturing to a line of five Chochoma figures, “The first light, the Yun’vin’ka, are the non-Meso’a we share the planet with. Specifically, the wealthy who pay to live in the north or those employed by the Meso’a. Think the pirates who patrol the system under the Raiders or the workers who mine the moons.”  
“Why is their Chochoma black?”  
“Because they don’t have the light of Kad in them like all Meso’a do, even those who aren’t Mandalorians.”  
“Is Niri a Yuhnvihnnkah?”  
“No,” Jecho tapped the next figurine, a red Chochoma, “She’s a Ak’vin’ka, the Second Light. These are the non-Clan members whom we share the planet with. This includes the Chibala, the Meso’a of the East, and Mandalorians like Niri who have special permission to be here. These are those who know of Kad but do not follow him like the Meso’a.”  
“Ahkvihnnkah,” Cara repeated, “So the next would be Ohxvihnkah?”  
“Ox’vin’ka, yes,” smiled Jecho, her finger on the teal Chochoma, “The third light. These are the kex’ika, the Clan Meso’a children who are learning about Kad and are growing in his light.”  
“And Kahnvihnkah,” Cara pointed to the gold Chochoma.  
“Kan’vin’ka, the fourth light. These are the Clan warriors, all of them, from the youngest to the oldest. Those who grow strong in Kad’s light are said to shine like Vin’ka just as gold shines in the light.”  
“And,” Cara picked up the silver Chochoma, her fingers running along the smooth surface, “Hahvihnkah, the Alor?”  
Jecho nodded, “All Alor are the fifth light. Silver, like that of a mirror, is reflective. The Alor is someone who reflects the light of Kad onto the warriors, making them brighter than he or she is by igniting their inner Ka’kex.”  
“Just like a mirror catching the light and burning something?”  
“Exactly.”  
“Woah,” Cara turned the figure around in her hands, marveling at how something so simple and decorative could hold meaning like that, “And people just trade these? They look too important to be tossing them around like that.”  
“Cara,” Jecho laughed, “You could give someone a concussion if you threw one of these hard enough. Trust me, they’re plenty sturdy.”  
“How do you get them?”  
“Each light is given two: one to keep and one to trade.”  
“Who gives them out?”  
Jecho thought for a moment, “I know children get it from their parents or their Ver’gebuir. I think the Maak’ux get theirs from the closest tribal Rachi.”  
“Are there Maak’ux who go to other tribes?”  
“Most Maak’ux visit whomever is closest to them, I believe,” she added with a gesture out to where Dendona was handing out burlap bags to the bouncing twins, “Dendona’s family moves around between the plains and the seaside. Aviila is the reason they’re here. They’re good friends.”  
Cara watched Hoori put the bag on their head like a hat and nod at whatever Dendona had said, “Aviila has a lot of friends.”  
“She touched a lot of lives. Saved a lot of people from bad situations.”  
“Yeah..”  
She felt Jecho’s hand close over her shoulder, “It’s alright, Cara. Just think of how proud Beon and Fent would be of us.”  
Cara looked up at her, “What do you mean?”  
“Well, we’re healthy aren’t we? We’re with friends, we’re having fun together, and we’re learning how to thrive in the situation we’ve found ourselves in,” she said, sitting down on the floor and beckoning Cara to do so, “And we’ve got each other. We both had our time with them and we both miss them, so we’ll never have to be alone.”  
Cara folded her legs under her and smiled slightly, although her insides were churning with guilt.  
“I guess so,” she said after a moment, “Thank you.”  
Jecho leaned forward and but her forehead to Cara’s, “Be Haria Enad.”  
Cara shrugged, “I..don’t know if I believe that yet,” she said truthfully.  
Jecho nodded sympathetically and gave her a quick hug, “It’ll take time, but once you feel at home, you won’t just believe it. You’ll feel it.”  
“How does it feel?”  
Jecho thought for a moment. “It feels...warm.” 

Down in the valley, singing and dancing permuted the constant chatter. Several warriors, mostly those well past their Choxultz, left their armor at home and donned traditional costumes based on those of their ancestors. The plains tribe’s costume consisted of a cape that was black on the outside and a shimmering shade of turquoise on the inside, woven sandals, wooden spheres filled with dried beans attached to the wrists and ankles; an orange halter-neck dress with teal chevrons and leg slits for the women and a long orange loincloth with teal chevrons for the men; and a jade Jiiya helmet with an open face and a large red plume that cascaded down the wearer’s back. Large Vin’ka discs hung from the ears of the women while the men sported teal spools and ear bars. A nautolan warrior, lacking the anatomy to wear earrings, had a teal bar through his septum with a gold ring on either end. Around his longest tendrils, which nearly reached his navel, he’d tied a bundle of vibrant green leaves dotted with red paint that marked him as a Maak’ux. Grasping the hands of the warriors on either side, he sang with them: 

Puk’mot, Puk’tat: ibi’tuur tir’we’ne. (Heart-mother, Heart father: today you won’t sleep)  
Nuk’chetca nas’hel! Nuk’vode nas’hela! (Good things are here! Good friends are near!)  
Pt’al Ka’kex, Puk’mot Puk’tat! (Come to the Warrior’s Fire, Heart-mother, Heart-Father)

Even those bustling from vendor to vendor hummed along or even clapped in time. The second verse, a call to action about food and drink, was drowned out by a distant chime from the Toch’akjah signalling the arrival of the first kex’ika to emerge from the jungle at the rendezvous point. Those not tending to stalls grabbed their things, and their children, and made their way to the arena on the far side of the Toch’akjah. The large stadium, shaped by two parallel rectangles with a long rectangular area connecting the two, was mostly set into the ground with the last three rows of seating flush to slightly below the internal walls. On either wall of the central area were carved murals depicting heroic scenes from both modernity and antiquity featuring stylized chochoma either playing with rubber balls or proudly sporting a necklace of berries. The opposite ends of the stadiums bore three large openings with heavy blast doors, the central of the three doors being the largest. Hovering dead center just above the sandy floor was a buzzing holo-projector broadcasting the scene six miles to the east.  
A Rhodian female putting pressure on a nasty Xalaraac bite tumbled out of the treeline and staggered towards the warriors waiting to receive her. She had her headband tucked tightly under her armpit and she released it before collapsing against the first warrior to reach her. Following close behind was a female human supporting a male Togruta with a sprained ankle. She carried both her ear spools and his lekku bands in her side pouch, producing them both as proof of their completion after she set down her comrade. All three were inspected, administered medical treatment, and loaded up into a transport shuttle while they waited for the rest of the initiates to arrive. The Togruta managed to shrug off the pain and walk on the given brace, but the Rhodian passed out while the medic prepared the anti-venom. Next out of the trees was a female Twi’lek wearing her lekku bands and ear cuffs, followed by a male Trandoshan with his nose bar, two more Nautolan (both male) wearing their nose bars, and a male human with a bleeding head-wound and his ear spools in a side pouch. Like the Rhodian, he was dismissed for treatment upon inspection. With them all loaded up, the transport hummed to life and zoomed across the plains en route to the stadium. Applause echoed like thunder as friends and family members cheered excitedly for their kex’ika to arrive. Even as Koucitesh and her entourage entered, the crowd was glued to the transmission. It took Ba’atuk swinging her electro-staff over her head and throwing it into the center of the arena to get the crowd’s attention.


End file.
